Yet Another Dark Road
by Chianna
Summary: Expanding on the end of Devil's Trap. What did Sam make of Deans actions, of his fathers?


**Disclaimer**: Sam, Dean and the gang belong to the PTBs. I'm just taking them out for a spin and promise to return the keys when I'm finished.

**Authors Note:** Yep. Another rehash of Devil's Trap. Hope it doesn't disappoint or worse…bore you. It really bothered me that John Winchester seemed to not react to the fact that he had a seriously injured son in the back seat of his car. What if the demon was right (you know what I'm talking about), what if Dean could believe what it said and what would Sam make of all this? I only attempt to answer the latter question. I leave the first two to the writers of season 2…

**Yet Another Dark Road**

The Demon's admission he had killed Jess and Sam's mother to get them out of the way was painful. It trivialized their deaths to no more than a nuisance for this very powerful and utterly soulless being. Yet, each death represented a fork in the road of his life that had turned him, with each blow, onto a far darker path.

Though he could not attack the demon physically, his big brother used his sharp wit and sarcastic tongue to divert it from taunting the younger Winchester.

"Do you mind getting this over with? I can't stand all the monologuing."

Sam knew the heroic effort it took to even force air through tortured lungs to speak. The force that held him to the wall sapped precious strength. The demon turned with enthusiasm, relishing the opportunity to torment his other victim. Dean's strategy worked and the small relief that Sam felt withered as his fear grew for is often foolishly heroic brother.

"_**Funny, but that's all part of your MO. Mask all that nasty pain. Mask the truth."**_

"**_You fight and you fight for this family, but the truth is…they don't need you. Not like you need them_**." The last five words spat out like heat seeking bullets searching for a chink in Dean's armor – the wall that he rarely brought down even in front of his brother. It protected a heart too often scarred by pain and loss. Dean's face took on an emotionless mask –there was no sign of mockery now. Sam feared the demon's barbs had found their mark.

"**_Sam. He's clearly John's favorite. Even when they fight, it's more concern than he's ever shown you." _**The demon picked at those scars, and Sam feared, tore at real insecurities. Could this beast see into their hearts? Sam had to look away. His own heart begged him to dismiss the demon's words as horrible untruths to his brother. His mind feared that any denial would be twisted into words the creature could use to further wound.

Then, a mortal fear struck Sam as he saw the slow, sneering smile form on Dean's face. He knew the next words to come from Dean's mouth would turn the wrath of the creature squarely on his brother.

"I bet you're real proud of you kids too. Huh? Oh wait…I forgot. I wasted them."

Sam could not see the demon's reaction. It bowed its head, as if in prayer. But it was an appalling mockery of a prayer, as his brother threw back his head in agony. Soon Sam could see his brother's heart's blood pouring from his chest. He screamed his brother's name.

Dean screamed, "Dad! DAD! Don't you let it kill me!" The words coming out like they were being torn from his chest – and still steeped in defiance. In answer, the beast redoubled its efforts. Dean cried out, gasping great lung-fulls of air, unwitting to Sam calling out to him.

Sam focused on the gun. Anger and fear for Dean's life had once awakened his telekinetic power. This time, it failed him…and he failed Dean.

Sam could tell that Dean was loosing his fight. His brother raised his head one last time. The look of pleading in Dean's eyes broke Sam's heart as surely as Dean's own was assaulted by the verbal and physical abuse.

His next words were as child's -pleading, soft, heart-felt...and desperate. Blood dripping from his mouth, the two-word entreaty ripped at Sam's heart.

"Dad… Please." Slowly, Dean's head sunk to his chest as he lost consciousness. Still pinned to the wall, for all the world Dean looked to Sam like a martyred angel fallen in the battle for Heaven.

Sam was certain that was what allowed his father's consciousness to surface for the moment it took to release him. Or maybe it was the demons final trick to let the father become fully conscious and aware of the dear cost of his lifelong battle.

But the creature, in its desire to torture, had miscalculated. John Winchester used the opportunity, for just a moment, to exert his will. Sam's feet fell to the floor, almost catching the younger Winchester off guard. When the creature turned, his father was gone and the demon was taunting him again.

"_**Kill me… you kill Daddy."**_

Sam knew this and made his choice. When his father fell, a bullet to his thigh, Sam ran to the man who had been his protector from infancy. Maybe more so than his father could ever be after the emotional toll of loosing his wife. Dean had fallen to the floor like a discarded puppet.

Gasping for air in a breathy whisper, Dean asked, "Where's dad?" Sam reassured Dean. As the demon could had foretold, Dean's concern was for his father and not for himself. Sam could barely tear himself away. The blood bubbling on his brother's lips was surely as sign serious internal injuries.

In the moments that followed, Sam made a decision that would, again, send him down yet another dark road. His father's mute reproach at Sam's choice not to kill the demon and his father in the process, barely registered on the youngest Winchester. Today, Dean was not the protector – he was. After Dean's final entreaty, it was as if all the fight had left him. John's head rocked back to the floor and his grief at his sons' decision was transparent.

Dean never spoke another word. All the fight had been bled out of him. Sam pulled together his jacket and closed it over Dean's wounds – he had nothing to make a bandage. Sam was worried about shock. Grabbing Dean's jacket from the front, Sam tried to help his brother to his feet. Try as he might, Dean did not have the strength to gather his legs under him. Contemplating lifting his brother over his shoulder, Sam discarded the idea because of the pain it would cause to Dean's injured chest. Instead he carried his brother in his arms, like a child. Sam would have given anything to just hear one smart ass crack from his brother. He could just imagine Dean singing a line or two about _'he's not heavy, he's my bro…ther…' _- any simple jest to cover any embarrassment by being carried by his little brother. Sam would put up with any snarky comment if it would wipe the hollow, pained look in Dean's eyes.

All he could do was bundle his brother in the back seat. Sam ran back and offered his support to his father, helping him hobble to the car.

His father was so much within his grief and disappointment in their failure that he didn't notice Sam's odd look when he got in the front seat with barely a glance to the back.

It was almost to much for him to fathom that Dad wouldn't be back there trying to help Dean. Could facing Dean mean that Dad would have face what he almost did? What the demon almost did, Sam reminded himself.

"I thought we saw eye to eye on this. Killing this demon comes first, before me, before everything."

Did Dad really believe that? Sam's eyes met his brother's in the mirror. Sam now knew what came first in his life. He may have always known instinctively. Tonight, he had just made it a conscious decision. It took him 22 years to figure it out. Dad seemed to have lost the understanding, along the way, somewhere along the many hunts. But Sam knew, whatever their objective, whatever the mission, he had always come first in his big brother's eyes. Dean learned that lesson all those years ago the night of the fire. Every action he took tonight was guided by that understanding. Every word he spoke. From that day to this, Dean had always known.

"No sir. Not before everything."

And one more time, Sam found himself driving down yet another dark road.

The End.

We raise fine look'in guys in Texas, don't we? Anyway…That's all folks. Tell me what 'ya think…


End file.
